But then…
My bike wouldn’t gain speed. It was as if the clutch was constantly engaged, and no power
was coming to the wheels. I bumbled along at barely 10 kilometers an hour for the next 40
kilometers until we finally arrived at Kubu Island. On the plus side, I improved my
technique by riding slowly and working on my balance.
Kubu Island is a small hill built of large stones and gigantic baobab trees, right on the
edge of the salt pans. It is a mystical place, and watching the sun set over this view was
worth all the sweat and tears of the day. Vasco, the manager of the campsite, organized a
pick-up truck to take me and the bike into the town of Letlhakane the following morning.
The pick up truck was in itself on the verge of breaking down – no windows except a
symbolic piece of plastic just hanging on, a dashboard covered with so much dust as to be
invisible, and as for the doors – one opened with a screwdriver and the other didn't open
at all. Somehow though, we all arrived in one piece.
There is no mechanic at Letlhakane, but we did find an engineering company run by Butch,
who, with the help of his mechanic, Miles, agreed to help me. We stripped the bike and
discovered that the clutch was worn and would have to be replaced. Again, a setback.
Wasting time, wasting money. Ahhh, well, this too is part of the trip. The clutch is due to
arrive tomorrow from South Africa and meanwhile I'm resting up before continuing to my
next stop – Victoria Falls!